


Nico di Angelo, Master of Death

by CassieWolfe



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Gen, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Temporary Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-31
Updated: 2020-08-31
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:07:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26222353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassieWolfe/pseuds/CassieWolfe
Summary: Meeting with Dean in a diner, Death asks for more than he can give - Sam's life. Moments before Death takes its revenge, the hunter is saved by an unlikely face, who promptly sacrifices himself. Months later, they meet again, and the Winchesters learn more of Nico's story.
Relationships: Nico di Angelo & Dean Winchester
Comments: 2
Kudos: 87
Collections: 123





	1. The Death of Death's Master

**Author's Note:**

> First story on Ao3! Woo! This is just a silly little idea that pretty much wrote itself. Enjoy, folks.

Dean Winchester was confused. It wasn't often that he'd admit to not knowing something, but in this case he thought he was quite justified in being a little shocked. He'd tried to summon Death, but things hadn't exactly gone according to plan:

Death had shown up all right. It had basically told Dean how incredibly, unimaginably unimportant he was, and how to beat Lucifer he'd need to let Sam die. Things had gone rather downhill from there.

“You think I'm going to let my baby brother die?” he inquired. “Let him jump into eternal torture? Sorry, no.”

“Excuse me?” Death asked, voice soft, yet lethal.

Dean licked his lips nervously. Death scared him a lot more than he'd like to admit, but he'd made a promise he'd never break.

“I swore to Dad that I'd protect him. I swore that I would die before I saw him hurt, and I'm not breaking that promise. Not for you, or anyone else.”

“Then you will get your wish, Dean Winchester. You will not leave this room alive, and your brother will find himself in the Cage. It is fated.”

Death stretched a hand to touch Dean's. The hunter was no fool; he knew that a touch was all it took. Then, a moment before the being's skeletal fingers touched him, a pale hand grabbed Death's wrist.

Dean froze, wondering what creature would be stupid enough to lay a hand on Death itself.

His mysterious savior didn't keel over. Instead, he spoke from behind Dean's shoulder.

“Stop. You know very well it's not his time.”

Death scowled. “What are you doing here? I thought Daddy dearest would have you off after some ghost or zombie.”

“Well, apparently that stuff's a bit below my pay grade,” the person said. It sounded like a teenage boy, and Dean wondered why Death didn't simply will the kid to die, and get on with his murder spree.

“I sensed a few recently dead souls – not very happy with their new condition, by the way – and came to investigate. And what do I find? You, overstepping your job. You're lucky it was me; anyone else, and you'd have gotten your immortal fingers rapped quite severely.” His voice was chastising and not in the least frightened.

Dean's protector let go of Death's wrist and walked around the table to sit in the free chair, between Dean and Death. Now that Dean could see the boy's face, he saw that his guess had been correct. It was indeed a kid of about fifteen, with dark hair, pale, near-translucent skin and haunted black eyes.

He scowled at Death. “Do you have any idea how much paperwork you've caused in the last week alone?”

“Oh right,” Death said grumpily. “We all know how the boss hates paperwork. Does he have you doing it again?”

“Why do you think I'm here? I'll take arguing with you over filing coming-back-to-life claims for Dad any day.”

The boy finally looked over at Dean. “And what is so special about this guy that you'd go out of your way to treat him to lunch and then kill him? I thought it was just me you did that for. Makes me rather jealous, you know.”

Death rolled its eyes. “You aren't that important, you know. Your sort always have a rather inflated sense of self, though.”

“Not that important,” he parroted. “Careful, or I might get offended and reconsider telling Dad about your recent massacre.”

Death sighed. “This is Dean Winchester. I'm sure you know the name?”

“Indeed. So,” he said to Dean, “You're the older Winchester. I must admit, I expected something a bit more... tortured. With what you've gone through...” He trailed off. “You hide your feelings. I admire that.”

Dean didn't know what to say. “Who- who are you?”

“Nico di Angelo,” he said. “I'd say it was a pleasure, but the circumstances are... regrettable.”

Without thinking, Dean blurted out the thought that had been bothering him. “Why are you bossing Death around? It can kill you, you know.”

Nico smirked. “No, it can't. It's not my time. No matter how much Thanatos here wants to kill me – and it does, trust me – he's not allowed. If he were to kill me right now, the balance would be upset. Thanatos' job depends on balance. If it's ever time to for me to die, I'll go peacefully, but for now my power trumps Death'.”

“Thanatos? I thought-”

He seemed to guess what Dean was going to say. “Death's a title, not its name.”

“Well,” Death said, standing, “I don't seem to be needed here. I'll just-”

It broke off when Nico grabbed its shoulder. “You're not going anywhere until you explain yourself. I know you well enough to know that this isn't like you. So why?”

“Lucifer has bound me to him,” Death said, sounding as if every word was dragged from it. “He has me where he wants me, when he wants me.”

“Well,” Nico said cheerfully, “That's easily fixed. Can you get him here?”

“And why would I do that?”

“Oh, I don't know, maybe because I can free you to go back to your... existence.”

Death sighed and closed its eyes. A moment later, it spoke, sounding incredibly tired. “He's coming. You have approximately ten minutes before he shows up and kills Dean for me.”

“Not enough time, but alright. Dean, get in the back room. This might well kill you if you're in the blast zone.”

“And it won't kill you?” Dean wondered incredulously.

“I am rather difficult to permanently kill. Hell won't be pleasant, but it's about time someone took the demons down there in hand.”

“So you're going to – what? Jump into Hell with Satan? What could make that worthwhile?”

“Yes, more or less. This world deserves to live, and while I might not be able to die, I can still feel pain. Hell is rather well known for its torture methods.”

Dean took a moment to process that. “Wait, you want to be hurt? Why?”

“I haven't a clue why I'm telling you this, but because enough pain makes one forget everything else. Including the mistakes one might or might not have made. Hypothetically.”

“But eventually you'll turn into a demon!” Dean protested, not quite able to reconcile the smiling teenager and hopeless, resigned words. “That's what Hell does.”

“No I won't,” Nico said, the smile slipping from his face. “I'll die, and come back in another world, even more powerful. That's what happens to me, forever. No heaven, no Hell. Just eternal life and eternal regret. Now get out of this room!”

Dean started toward the back room, only to turn at the doorway. “You don't have to just give up, you know. You can keep fighting.”

Nico smiled again, sadly. “I've had enough of fighting, Dean. It's too addictive.”

Dean nodded. He understood that too well. Just before he closed the door, he heard Nico say softly, “I'm glad we met, Dean.”

He closed the door and slid down it to sit against the door. In the other room, he heard Lucifer and Nico argue, then Lucifer's voice, tinged with fear.

“What is that thing? You- you shouldn't have that!”

“And yet, I do. How strange.”

Lucifer screamed then, his angelic voice coming through. And then – silence.

The door behind Dean opened. Death stood looking down at him.

“It is safe, Dean Winchester. You need not worry about your brother.”

Then Death's form shimmered, and it was gone. Dean picked himself up and walked out to see dark scorch marks in the shape of wings on the ground. Near them lay a silver ring, shaped like a skull. Dean picked it up and put in his pocket. Then he walked out, stepping into the Impala to return to the motel. No doubt Sam would be glad to hear that Lucifer was gone, but Dean was somehow unsettled by the manner of that leaving.


	2. The Trials of Death's Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Upon arriving in Hell, Nico is appalled by the poor management and promptly takes Crowley in hand, much to the King of Hell's displeasure.

Falling. Falling into darkness. Nico had always been scared of falling. Flying. Anything to do with heights. He'd always blown up when Jason had suddenly lifted him into the air and shot off like the bullet from a .45.

As his consciousness returned, Nico realized that he wasn't alone. Hands reached out, grabbing his clothes, his hair, his limbs. Voices called for him to help them, to save them. Voices of the dead.

Lights. Harsh, red lights. They shone below him, lighting up a place of fire and sulfur. Nico hit the ground, and blacked out seconds later. When he came to, he was chained to a wall, a leering red-eyed demon standing in front of him.

“Let me go, whelp. 'Cause that's what you are, right? Lucifer's little bitch. Doing what he tells you when he tells you.”

The demon sneered. “So what? It pays to have friends in high places, kid.”

“Just saying. Blind loyalty can be-” Nico stepped back into his own shadow, made clear by the dancing lights, and appeared behind the demon. It flinched at the feel of cold Stygian iron at its throat. “Dangerous. Especially when there's a power turnover. Just how certain are you that Lucifer will win? Certain enough to risk a sword to the neck?”

“You can't kill me, fool. Not here! You'd need an angel blade, or Ruby's knife, or the Colt. And you don't have any of those.”

“No. But I have something better.” Nico took a step back, then pulled, the razor-sharp blade cutting deep into the demon's neck. It choked, then fell. “Stygian iron,” Nico whispered into its ear, but the demon didn't hear. It would never hear again.

Nico stood, wiped the demon's black blood from his face as best he could, and walked toward the light.

“Crowley, I presume?” Nico stood straight, enjoying the fact that, with this particular meat suit, he was taller than the crossroads demon.

“Indeed.” This Crowley oozed confidence, secure in the knowledge that this was merely a human spirit, just a messenger. The others hadn't noticed, either. Hadn't noticed that Nico too reeked of confidence, of dominance. Hadn't noticed the black sword he wore.

“There's been a power turnover. Hey, I'm the new King of Hell. Any questions?”

“Who are you, to waltz in here and tell me you're 'King of Hell'?” Crowley cried. “You're a mere human!”

“Ah, but look again,” Nico said lazily.

He could see the moment when Crowley saw it. Saw the sword, the darkness in Nico's eyes. His eyes widened.

“How are you here? You should be dead!”

“Well, I've tried, but it didn't exactly go as planned. I'm here 'cause I threw myself into Hell with Lucifer – he's gone now, by the way.”

Seeing that Crowley was unlikely to respond, he added, “I'm reforming Hell. Now, please come with me. We have a lot of work to do.”

Crowley stood. “Lead the way, my lord.”

“Firstly,” he lectured, “I'm really appalled by your method of acquiring more souls. Really? I'm starting to think I should pop out and find some other lieutenant – I hear there's a demon in England who invented auto-correct and click-bait. Now, you may be a demon but that doesn't mean you're without morals.”

“I'm pretty sure that's exactly what-” Crowley started, but was cut off.

“And another thing,” Nico continued. “This torture! No, no, no. You make them the masters of their own Hell. Pop them into little pocket dimensions, and tell them it's Hell, but link it to their minds, so whatever they expect, they see.”

“Er... right. Brilliant, m'lord.”

“Well, what are you waiting for? We've got an awfully long way to go.”

Pacing his office two decades later, Nico di Angelo considered his domain. Under his careful guidance, Hell had flourished. It was bursting with new souls, practically begging for entry, and the torture methods he'd brought in were exemplary.

Still, he couldn't shake the knowledge that this wasn't what he was supposed to be doing. His goals had always been for the good of humanity, not for their damnation. It came as a relief, therefore, when a tug in his gut drew him out of the Hellish plane and into... a car?

Spinning, the driver gaped at him.

“Nico?”


	3. The Return of Death's Master

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who summoned Nico? I'm sure you can guess. As he catches up with the Winchesters, we learn why he's in their world at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's a lot of worldbuilding... oops.

It had been two months. Two goddamn months since Dean had met Death. Thanatos. Whatever. Regardless, Dean wouldn't tell Sam what had gone down, and that was worrying. The hunter kept simply brushing his brother off with “You don't need to worry,” and “It doesn't matter any more.” He'd gotten more and more moody, and now, Sam could tell, he was near the breaking point.

“What's wrong, Dean?” Sam asked, looking over to where his brother gripped the steering wheel as if it had gravely offended him.

“And don't tell me it's nothing,” he added, seeing Dean open his mouth, probably to snark at him. “I can tell something's wrong, so what is it?”

“Do you ever tire of having people's blood on your hands, Sammy?”

Well, that wasn't what Sam had expected.

“Of course I do,” he answered honestly. “It's not something you can ever get used to.”

“It's worse when it's a kid,” Dean said, sounding strangely defeated. “And it's worse when it's their choice. When you can't do anything except hide in the damn back room and wait for it to be over.”

“When did this happen?” Sam asked, though he was certain he already knew.

“With Death. He- he was willing to give me the ring, but he wanted something I couldn't give him for it.”

Sam knew he would do better if he let his brother talk it out, but Dean seemed done, so he gave in to curiosity. “What?”

“He wanted me to promise that when you went to jump into the Cage, I wouldn't stop you. And I couldn't promise that. I swore to Dad that I'd protect you with my life.”

Dean sat quietly for a few minutes, focusing on the highway ahead of him.

“I said no. He reached out to kill me, but this kid grabbed his arm. He didn't die from the contact. He summoned Lucifer there and... I don't know. I was hiding like some kinda coward. This is all that was left when I came out. This, and a set of scorched wing marks.”

Dean held out a ring, silver with a skull design. Sam took it, turning it over and admiring the intricacy of the work. Tiny jet chips made the eye sockets. Despite being a ring, the skull looked disturbingly realistic. Sam almost expected it to move, but that was a silly fancy. Even in their business, dead skulls didn't move.

“What was his name, Dean?” Sam didn't know why it seemed so important.

“Nico. Nico di Angelo.”

Suddenly, there was a thump in the back seat. Dean jumped, nearly putting Baby in the ditch. Sam pulled a knife from under the seat.

“Nico?” Dean said incredulously, twisting to look behind him.

Turning, Sam saw a boy in his teens, dark-haired and -eyed. He looked a bit roughed up, fresh and old scars crisscrossing his bare arms, a dark bruise spreading over his jaw. Dark circles were evident under his eyes, and the black sword at his feet looked as if it hadn't been properly cleaned after the last use.

“May I have my ring back?” The boy inquired mildly. “It has considerable sentimental value to me.”

Sam passed the ring over, and the kid – Nico, Sam reminded himself – slid it onto one pale finger.

“How was Hell?” Dean asked, looking like he dreaded the answer.

Nico made a so-so gesture. “Still doesn't make Top 10 Vacation Spots, but running a bit smoother. I left the crossroads demon Crowley running the place. Was that a mistake?”

Dean shrugged, but didn't answer, so Sam replied. “As demons go, he's one of the better ones. I wouldn't trust him out of shotgun range, but he's an administrator type. He's likely to keep everything business, no personal grudges or anything like that.”

“I also made a few rules. No making deals with people who don't know what they're doing, with people under the legal age of consent without the legal guardian's signed permission, or-” He broke off suddenly.

“Or?” Sam asked curiously.

“Or people trying to bring back their loved ones.” Nico blurted.

Looking at his brother, Sam saw his jaw tighten, but Dean didn't speak for several long minutes, and when he did it was to ask, “I was wondering, when I met you you kept talking about your dad. Who...” He trailed off.

“It may come as a shock,” Nico warned, “but Dad's most common name is Hades.”

For the second time in one night, Dean almost became more familiar with the ditch than was comfortable.

Sam wasn't driving, so his shock was less problematic, but no less potent. “Hades?” he spluttered. “Like, the Greek god?”

“Yup. I think he might not actually exist in this world, but I'm really not sure.”

“In this world. So there's others?”

“Many,” Nico said calmly.

“But- how?” Sam asked, baffled.

“You want the full explanation, or the short version?” Nico queried.

“Uh, maybe the brief version?” Sam said tentatively.

“Well,” Nico started, “basically there's hundreds, if not thousands of other worlds. Then there's the different planes of existence. This world has five: Earth, Hell, Heaven, Purgatory and the Empty. They all exist on different levels in the same place. Hell isn't literally an underground labyrinth, Heaven isn't literally a beautiful place in the sky. You following me?”

Sam nodded, even though he wasn't, not really.

“They're basically different universes. They're in the same place, at the same time, but someone in one plane can't touch, hear, or see the others. At least, not normally.”

“So at any moment I could be standing inside a demon, or driving through an angel?” Dean asked, taking an interest in the conversation, much to Sam's surprise.

“Exactly. Some people can perceive the other planes. They're usually diagnosed as schizophrenic, but they're really seeing beyond what most humans can. Gods and angels can, too. Kind of like how angels see your soul, rather than your appearance.”

“So, what, you're telling me that you're not from this world?” Sam asked, nearly hysterical. “Then, where's your world? What's it like?”

“It's just like this one, except, instead of your monsters and suchlike, we have the Greek gods and monsters. The planes are Earth, Hades, Olympus and-” he hesitated, “And Tartarus.”

“Isn't that, like, the “Hell of Hells”?” Dean wondered.

“No. It- it's more like Purgatory, actually. Full of monsters.” Nico's voice cracked. “I'm sorry. It's- hard to talk about. I spent some time there, a few centuries ago.”  
“A few centuries?” Sam asked. “How old are you?”

He hesitated. “Physically, I'm sixteen. I'm two years old in this world, but I've lived four hundred, fifty-seven years, total.”

“How did you get here?” Dean was trying very hard to seem uninterested. “I mean, it can't be normal to be able to go from world to world.”

“I can travel through shadows. You saw it, how I appeared in the back seat. When- when my boyfriend, Will, died, I tried to kill myself. I walked into the shadows with no particular destination in mind, but instead of dying, I came out in a different world. It was really weird, all these kids running around waving sticks- sorry, wands, around. Some dude called Voldemort killed me, and I woke up somewhere else. And so it went. I've been to dozens of worlds, but never the same one twice, so I can't go back to mine.”

“Look, I'm sorry about your boyfriend,” Sam said. “I know how hard it is.”

Nico scowled and looked out the window. “Whatever. Even with all my cool “death-y” powers, I can't bring him back.”

Sam and Dean both pretended not to notice Nico wiping away a few tears.

“Well,” Dean said a little too loudly, “There's a burger joint up ahead. Anyone hungry?”

“Starving,” Nico smiled.


End file.
